


Live to Tell

by LegendaryDreamer



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryDreamer/pseuds/LegendaryDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time had finally arrived for Athos to reveal the truth about his wife and his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live to Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene between episodes 1x09 and 1x10.

**~*~**

Boisterous voices carried through the pub as Athos poured another glass of brandy. From his corner he watched his comrades where they sat playing cards. A brief grin crossed his face before his attention focused back to the bright red liquid he held. Athos lifted his glass and tipped the contents into his throat. The warmth trickled downwards as a temporary solace passed through him. 

It took several swipes to grasp the bottle for one more drink. _How many now? Four, five … ?_ God, he’d lost count. It didn’t matter, this only numbed the pain, but the regret and guilt were always present. Constant reminders of a life he had tried to forget and hide, but which was becoming more exposed in recent days. 

His personal solitude was soon broken when Aramis turned in his chair and tilted his head towards him. 

“You still haven’t explained everything you know about this lady you mentioned at the convent.” 

Athos shook his head and shifted sideways in an attempt to avoid eye contact. The others exchanged glances. 

“Why won’t you come over here and tell us,” Aramis stood up and spread his hands as an open invitation. “Or is the Armagnac better company?” 

Still showing no reaction, Athos gripped the bottle tighter with one hand and ran the other through his hair. Porthos attempted a friendly dig, trying to maintain a straight face, “He hugs that bottle more than he does a woman.” 

With that comment Athos’ face darkened, and d’Artagnan recognized something he’d seen months earlier. As he moved out of his chair he motioned to Aramis and Porthos while heading towards Athos’ table. 

“Do you mind if we join you?” Despite no answer, he pulled up a seat as the other two followed suit. Sighing Athos began to play with his locket when Aramis asked another question. 

“Why were you able to recognize the flower as the signature of a lady working for the Cardinal?” 

Taking a deep breath Athos lifted the chain off his neck and rubbed the medallion with his thumbs while the others waited. 

“What’s inside?” d’Artagnan attempted to break the silence another way and hoped he hadn’t pushed things too soon. 

Athos opened the locket’s wings and revealed a pressed forget-me-not, “A reminder of the woman I loved.” 

Staring at the keepsake, d’Artagnan recalled the times he’d seen the blue flowers before. Once in the torn painting of a woman, a similar arrangement on his pillow, and a pendant embossed with an identical symbol given to him by … 

D’Artagnan’s voice dropped and under his breath he mumbled, “My god, she’s your wife.” 

He shook his head, while trying to make sense of everything. With the full knowledge that what he’d promised not to tell had to be revealed now. D’Artagnan spilled most of the information out in one quick breath, “You told me you had to hang her because she was a murderess. Your brother who died … she killed him.” 

Athos scowled at d’Artagnan and then nodded in agreement. Aramis and Porthos looked at each other, trying to comprehend what had occurred. Aramis stroked his beard as everything processed and came together. 

“This someone special was your wife?” 

And at the same moment they arrived to the conclusion that d’Artagnan knew something they didn’t, “How do you know so much of this?” 

D’Artagnan stared at Athos before he recounted that night’s events. “When I went back to La Fere to check on Athos, a woman rode away leaving the manor ablaze. I had to go inside to save him.” 

Athos hung his head while tears formed at the edges of his eyes, “When we were there she was ever present in my memories. But she’d come back and I saw her like a ghost …” 

Porthos opened his mouth several times before his thoughts tumbled out, “Are you sure it’s her? How could she have survived?” 

“She seduced Remi and convinced him to save her after I left,” Athos’ voice cracked. “She knew I loved her too much to stay and watch.” 

Perplexed, Aramis requested more information. “Who’s Remi?” 

“Our village Farrier, I’d asked him to take care of her hanging.” 

Athos took a quick swig from the bottle and continued while his speech became more slurred. “The only reason she’d returned was to wipe out our past. Whether it was intentional or by chance, that was when we happened to be there.” 

D’Artagnan began to realise he had to confess something, and do it before the discussion proceeded any further. His conscience would not let him rest otherwise. 

“I think I know her.” 

Athos might have been drunk but that didn’t stop him as he reached across the table and grabbed the collar of d’Artagnan’s jacket. He pulled the younger man across the table, until they were within inches of each other’s noses before he released him. 

“How?” 

D’Artagnan straightened his jacket as he related his story. How he’d run into her at the Paris inn he was staying in, had slept with her and seen the mark on her neck left by the noose. That he questioned her about it, and how she’d framed him for the murder of her travelling companion. 

Athos pounded his fists on the table which caused both his glass and bottle to tip over. Porthos and Aramis set both items back upright to avoid too much spillage while Athos tried to regain control of his emotions. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Until now I didn’t realize the connection, and … ” d’Artagnan gazed directly at the man he’d grown to respect. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please, understand that.” 

He hoped his last comment was understood through Athos’ alcohol induced state of mind. That it was enough to avoid any future tension between them. First Athos stared at the floor, then he lifted his head back up as he served himself another glass of wine. He paused for a moment and glared at d’Artagnan, thinking for a moment, then took a quick swig of his drink. 

When he nodded his agreement, d’Artagnan relaxed. What they didn’t need now was a rift amongst their ranks. 

During that interchange, Aramis and Porthos had begun to discuss more links amongst themselves. And had pieced together clues, especially hints about a witness at Ninon’s trial. A female whose presence had caused Athos’ extreme outburst, the one he’d claimed was a criminal and not to be trusted. 

Aramis slapped his knee as a revelation hit, “Madame de la Chapelle, she’s your wife.” 

“Ah …. and that’s how he knew her so well,” As he chimed in Porthos pushed Aramis on the arm, then looked around at his friends. What he failed to notice was d’Artagnan’s disbelief. 

“No, that must be someone else. Her name’s Milady de Winter.” 

Aramis reached a natural conclusion, “She must be using aliases to hide her true identity.” 

Taking the bottle, Athos turned it upside down letting the last of its contents dribble down his throat. Then he let out one last distorted word before his head landed on the tabletop. 

“Anne …” 

Porthos stood up and moved so he could place Athos’ arm over his shoulder, lifted him up, and dragged him outside the pub doors. 

“Best to get him home, and when he’s sobered up tomorrow morning, then we’ll talk to Treville.” 


End file.
